


The Puppet

by franscats



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Gen, Spook Me Multi-Fandom Halloween Ficathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27202456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franscats/pseuds/franscats
Summary: Blair finds an unusual toy in an antique shop.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	The Puppet

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Spook Me Multi-Fandom Ficathon.  
> The prompt was evil toys and the artwork that inspired the story was: Artwork by BROM  
> https://images42.fotki.com/v1216/photos/6/3814576/16181654/756849f698d33c39a78e982b8fa4fc-vi.jpg

Blair Sandburg stopped in front of the antique store and looked in. He had never seen the store before but he was rarely in this part of Cascade. The store was the kind of place that was full of junk - bits and pieces picked up over time but invariably these kinds of stores had unrecognized treasures covered in dust. It was in a store like this that Blair had found the Burton book, The Sentinels of Paraguay. The book written by the famous traveler, Richard Burton, had described tribal members with heightened senses - guardians who used those senses to protect the tribe. The book had started him on the road to finding his sentinel, Jim Ellison, a detective with Major Crimes.

Glancing at the watch Jim had given him on his birthday Blair realized he still had at least two hours until he had to meet Jim. “More than enough time to do a little treasure hunting,” he told himself before pushing open the door. Blair entered and looked around. The lighting was not the best, Blair guessed it might be deliberate to add to the antique appearance of the place but he walked in and smiled at the proprietor. 

“Good afternoon,” the man behind the counter smiled. 

“Hi,” Blair glanced around. 

“Is there something in particular you are looking for?”

“No,” Blair smiled. “I saw this place and thought I could come in and explore.”

“Certainly,” the man waved his hand around. “If you need help with something, let me know.”

Blair nodded and began walking around, carefully avoiding objects on the floor while looking over the shelves. There were a lot of knick knacks, pottery, games and toys that had been popular in the sixties, and pieces of furniture.

Looking through the piles, Blair paused and frowned as he looked at a clown puppet hanging on strings. The clown was semi bald with just a tuft of red for hair, a white face, angry sunken black eyes with yellow pupils, a red nose and a red mouth set into a sneer. Two crossed sticks controlled the movement of the puppet and Blair reached out and picked up the puppet wondering why anyone would make a puppet that was this ugly. Turning it over, Blair tried to find some marks that would identify the clown’s maker but beneath the white and black clothes and the blue ruffle collar there were no identifying marks.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” the store owner commented waking over.

“In a very macabre sort of way,” Blair agreed. “I find it very…unsettling,” he finished after a pause. “Where did it come from? I can’t find any identifying marks on it.”

“I couldn’t either,” the owner agreed. “I found it in an abandoned storage unit I bought. It was in with a lot of odd things. I think the owner must have been into the occult. There were all kinds of weird items in the unit.”

Blair glanced down at the puppet. The Rainier Halloween party would be coming up this weekend and everyone had been asked to bring a scary decoration. This definitely would fit the bill. “How much is it?” Blair asked and the owner glanced at it, distaste obvious. 

“Give me ten dollars and it is yours.”

“Deal,” Blair smiled and carried the puppet over to the counter. Putting it down, he watched as the owner wrapped it in some paper before putting it in a bag. “This will make a great decoration at my department’s Halloween party.”

“Truth told, I’m happy to be rid of it,” the owner answered while ringing up the sale. “Sometimes, when I am here late, I could swear I hear it moving around.”

“There is something creepy about it,” Blair agreed taking the bag. “Well, thanks,” he turned and left, carrying the bag.

An hour later Blair pulled up in front of the loft and carried in his contribution for the anthropology party. Putting it down on the counter, he went into his room to get a fresh shirt and then headed out to meet Jim and Simon for dinner at Barry’s Steak House. Simon was going to treat them to a steak dinner with all the trimmings in thanks for closing the Branfort pedophile case. The case had taken four months of hard long hours and a great deal of heartbreak - Jim and Blair spending every extra minute they could spare following up leads on the case even as they worked other cases.

At the end of the case, when Branfort had been arrested, Simon told the detective and his partner he was taking them out to dinner.

Walking into the small steakhouse, Blair glanced around and saw Simon and Jim sitting at a table. Jim waved and Blair walked over taking a seat.

“Hi Jim, Simon,” Blair greeted as Jim poured him a beer from a pitcher on the table. 

“Right on time, Chief,” Jim remarked as Simon indicated the menu.

“Let’s order. I don’t know about you two but I’m hungry,” Simon said lifting his menu. It didn’t take long for the three men to place their orders and then Simon lifted his glass. “To a job well done,” he offered and they toasted.

“So, while I was doing the Branfort paperwork to see that he goes to prison for a long time, what were you up to?” Jim asked Blair.

“I had a meeting with a study group over by the Heights.”

“The other side of Cascade,” Simon observed and Blair nodded.

“Afterward, I stopped at the weirdest antique shop on Pine Street. It was near where I parked. I picked up a prop for the anthropology Halloween party at Rainier this week.”

“Why don’t you just take the pumpkin that’s in the loft?” Jim suggested and Blair rolled his eyes.

“That’s not creative,” Blair objected. “What fun is there in bringing a pumpkin?”

“Am I going to have to send a patrol car to break up a party?” Simon asked.

“No, it’s not the anthro people who go crazy. It’s the fraternities,” Blair stated and Jim and Simon looked at each other. 

“In my experience, all the students go nuts,” Simon grumbled and Jim nodded in agreement.

“When I was with patrol, we had to break up a lot of parties,” Jim added. “All the weirdos come out on Halloween.”

“Weirdos?” Blair questioned.

“Yeah,” Simon added. “The crazies are out. They’re doing occult stuff, séances-”

“Sacrifices,” Jim added.

“Oh, come on, guys,” Blair answered. “Most of those people are harmless, just having fun.”

“I remember I once stopped a bunch from killing thirteen black kittens,” Jim stated. “As much as I love the candy, I hate the holiday.”

Blair shook his head as the food arrived. Holding up his hand he promised, “There will be no sacrificing kittens or anyone or thing else for that matter at the anthro party.”

The dinner went well and Jim and Blair returned home feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks. Walking into the loft Jim glanced around and frowned. “What’s that smell?” he asked and Blair glanced about.

“What smell?”

“I don’t know like rotten eggs or something.”

“Could it be a problem with the plumbing?” Blair asked and Jim frowned. 

“Maybe, the smell is coming from near the sink,” Jim walked over and looked at the counter. “What’s in the bag?”

“Oh, that’s the prop for the anthro party,” Blair opened the bag and held up the puppet.

“Yuck,” Jim wrinkled his nose. “I hate to tell you but that’s what smells.”

“Really,” Blair sniffed at it, not smelling anything but he didn’t have Jim’s senses. “I’ll just put it in my room,” he offered. 

“That thing is ugly,” Jim stated as Blair carried it away.

“Which makes it perfect for Halloween,” Blair called back.

Jim shook his head and went upstairs to read before bed. After spending an hour reading Jim turned off the lights and settled in to sleep. He could hear Blair downstairs typing on his laptop so he put cotton in his ears and adjusting the pillows closed his eyes but two hours later, sleep still alluding him, Jim got up and came downstairs.

Going into the kitchen, Jim got a bottle of water and then, feeling unsettled, walked around the loft checking all the locks. Everything was fine and very quietly Jim entered Blair’s room to check there. His sight compensating for the darkness, Jim glanced around the room. He could see the clown resting on the desk and wrinkled his nose at the smell before looking away. From the doorway Jim checked the window was locked and then glanced at Blair. Blair had seemed healthy at dinner but he seemed pale, his face almost white though Jim couldn’t detect any problems with his breathing. Hoping Blair wasn’t getting sick Jim left the room and walked into the living room, settling down on the sofa and turning on the television, glad that he had been given tomorrow off as a comp day - which was a good thing since he did not fall asleep that night.

“Morning Blair,” Jim said glancing at his friend as Blair came out of the bedroom and headed for the coffeepot the next morning. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Why are you asking?” Blair’s movements were choppy as he moved across the floor.

“You look pale,” Jim answered, “and you are walking funny.”

“I think I must have pulled some muscles in my arms and legs,” Blair admitted. “They feel stiff but other than that I feel okay.”

Jim frowned but accepted the statement. His senses told him despite the stiff limbs and pale face he seemed okay. “I’m going to the hardware store. I want to get some materials to fix the kitchen sink. I can’t stand a leaky faucet.”

“Do you need me to come with you?”

“No, you relax. You’ve got that Halloween party coming up. Why don’t you take a hot bath and see if you can loosen up those muscles.”

“Good idea. I’ll see you later.” Blair watched Jim leave and then turned and headed for the bathroom.

Two hours later, Jim opened the loft door and walked in placing his packages on the counter. “Sandburg, I’m back,” he called out. Not getting a reply, he walked over to Blair’s door and stopped. Blair was lying flat on the bed his hands and legs stiff at his sides. “Blair?’ he questioned softly. “What’s wrong?”

“Jim,” Blair whispered, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “I can’t move.”

“What do you mean you can’t move?” Jim asked in concern. He walked in the room and touched Blair’s arm. “I’ll call an ambulance just try and stay calm.”

“It’s the clown,” Blair whispered. “I’m turning into the clown.”

Jim looked over at the clown and frowned. He could have sworn its eyes had been yellow, not sapphire blue like Blair’s. Reaching over he touched the clown, its arm moving. At the same time so did Blair’s. About to tell Blair this couldn’t happen, he stopped and looked more closely at the puppet. When Jim had first seen it, its face held a nasty sneer. Now the puppet’s face seemed more bewildered than evil and though Jim might try and deny it he knew its eyes had been yellow and were now blue. “How did this happen and how do we fix it?” Jim asked.

“I don’t know,” Blair whispered. “I’m losing the ability to speak,” he said in a raspy voice.

Jim ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, stay calm. Let me think.” He glanced at the puppet. He could destroy it but would that help or harm Blair? Thinking it over, knowing this was way beyond anything he knew how to deal with Jim looked down at his friend. The most he could think to do was find out about that puppet. Where had Blair said he found it – an antique shop on Pine in the Heights. “Chief, I’m going to see if I can find something about this puppet. I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

Patting Blair’s arm, Jim turned and ran to his truck. Turning on his lights and siren he took off down Prospect heading for the Heights and Pine Street.

It didn’t take long for Jim to find the store once he hit Pine Street and he pulled over in front jumping out of the truck and rushing into the shop. The owner came over smiling. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“My friend bought a puppet here yesterday,” Jim answered.

“Yes, I remember. He was going to use it as a decoration,” the owner agreed.

“I need any information you have on that puppet,” Jim answered. “My friend…had an allergic reaction to the puppet and I need to know all about it so we can treat him.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know much,” the man answered. “As I told your friend, I found the puppet in an abandoned storage unit that I bought.”

“Was there anything with the puppet?”

“Well, now that I think about it, there was this one thing but I don’t know if it has anything to do with the puppet.” The owner disappeared returning with a sheet of paper with symbols drawn on it. Handing it over, he shook his head, “I don’t know if this has anything to do with the puppet.”

Jim took the paper and looked over it. “I’ll take this, thank you.” He turned and headed out the door, lights and sirens flashing.

Returning to Prospect Avenue, Jim didn’t want to wait for the elevator and ran up the stairs. Entering the loft he went into Blair’s room and stopped. Blair’s clothes were on the puppet and the clown’s clothes were on the body on the bed. Not knowing what to do but knowing there was little time left to fix the problem, Jim glanced at the paper. Various shapes were written on the paper and Jim glanced over them and then at the puppet. If only Blair could speak, he would know what these symbols meant. And Jim didn’t know anyone else who could decipher it in time to help Blair.

Laying the paper on the table, Jim closed his eye and reached over putting his hands on Blair’s face. “Incacha,” he whispered, calling for the shaman he had once worked with in the jungles of Peru, knowing the shaman could spirit walk. “Help me save my guide.” 

And though he was still holding Blair’s face and could even feel Blair’s skin hardening beneath him, he was also in a blue jungle, Incacha standing before him. “Enqueri,” Incacha said. “You must destroy the puppet before the sun sets.” 

“How?”

“Fire, but beware. It will try to stop you. It wishes to live.”

Finding himself back in the bedroom, Jim turned and rushed into the living room. In the corner was a wood burning stove. Opening the grating and throwing wood and kindling in, Jim added the newspaper and lit the fire. He then turned to get the puppet but stopped. A life size puppet was standing in the doorway blocking Jim from getting in the room. Snarling, Jim smashed into the puppet sending it sprawling backwards and grabbed the Blair puppet but before he could get out the door, a hand gripped his leg making him fall. The puppet slipped from his hands as Jim turned and kicked at the thing holding his leg and then claws dug into his leg and Jim could feel the skin ripping, blood turning his leg wet. Kicking back again, more skin ripping he pulled free and grabbed the puppet. Unable to stand because of his leg, Jim crawled into the living room desperately clutching the wooden doll. In the distance, he could see the sun low on the horizon as he crawled across the floor. He could feel the heat of the fire as he moved closer but before he could reach it the thing jumped on his back. Knowing there was no time left Jim threw the puppet praying it would make it into the fire as it sailed across the short distance into the stove .

With a scream, the puppet scrambled to grab the wooden doll but even as it reached the stove, the puppet caught fire. On the floor, panting in pain, Jim watched as flames consumed the life size puppet and it crashed to the floor turning to ash. 

Turning, Jim looked into Blair’s room and saw his friend and guide sit up on the bed, a dazed look on his face.

“Blair,” he asked sitting up.

“Jim,” Blair was shaking. “It was trying to take over me.”

Jim nodded. “Are you okay, Chief?”

Blair nodded and looked at Jim’s leg, his eyes going wide. “Jim,” he lurched forward still uncoordinated.

Jim glanced at the blood running down his leg. He could see four large scratches. He’d need to clean them up but he could tell if he bandaged his leg he could forgo stitches. “It’s okay, Blair. Get the medical kit from the bathroom and I’ll take care of it.”

“Should we go to the hospital?” Blair asked staggering past Jim and heading for the bathroom.

“No, I can handle this,” Jim answered taking the kit as Blair came back and collapsed next to him.

Taking out antiseptic, Jim hissed as he began cleaning the wounds. “How’d this happen?” he asked as he worked.

“I don’t know,” Blair admitted. “How’d you figure that the puppet had to be burned?”

“Incacha told me,” Jim admitted. “I had gotten a paper that the store owner found near the puppet but it didn’t make any sense to me so I called out to Incacha and he said to burn the puppet before the sun sets.”

Blair glanced out the window. The sun had set while they sat on the floor. “You reached out to the shaman in Peru. Wow.”

“It was all I could think of to do But how did you figure out it was the puppet?”

“My eyes, they changed color. I was going to run out of the loft but then I got all stiff." Blair paused a second then added, "I need to know what this thing was. The paper, where is it?” Blair asked and Jim pointed to Blair’s room. 

“It's on your desk.”

Slowly, his coordination still a little off though Jim could tell it was already better, Blair stood and walked inside returning with the paper and putting on his glasses. Looking over the paper he shook his head. “These symbols have been associated with Satanism,” he said softly, pointing at a part of the paper. “The puppet must have been used for some form of possession and transference. The guy in the antique store did say it was in a storage unit filled with occult stuff.”

Jim sighed and having finished bandaging his leg, stood. “Let’s just forget this ever happened,” Jim suggested sinking down onto the sofa and Blair looking at the paper, nodded.

After a moment, he looked up. “Thanks, Jim.”

“Don’t mention it and I mean don’t mention it,” Jim answered. “And Chief, take the pumpkin to the party.


End file.
